Here Is What I Know Now
by mooyoo
Summary: A series of pointless, semifluffy childhood drabblesshort ficlets.
1. Here Is What I Know Now

**Title:** Here Is What I Know Now  
**Word Count:** 372  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** The first time Lincoln sees his brother, Michael is nothing more than a few fuzzy lines on a monitor, moving hazily around and looking more like a blob than a child.

**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.

**A/N: **First part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

The first time Lincoln sees his brother, Michael is nothing more than a few fuzzy lines on a monitor, moving hazily around and looking more like a blob than a child.

He almost doesn't believe his mother when she tells him that that blob is his baby brother or sister, and convinces himself for several weeks that she's just making it up to punish him for being bad, because why would they want another baby anyway? Especially when it makes his parents yell and scream and cry at each other.

He realizes when he finally notices his mother's growing belly that this baby – the baby that really is in there – is the source of his father's anger, his mother exhaustion, his inability to eat Frosted Flakes anymore for breakfast –

_it's the same thing_, she tells him in the supermarket as she puts a bag of sugary cereal that he can tell is most definitely _not _made by Kellog's in the shopping cart, _and we need to save the money with your brother on the way_

– the cause of all of their problems.

When he wakes one morning to find his father gone and his mother standing breathless over a note with his dad's handwriting, Lincoln panics and dials 911 and rids all the way to the hospital clutching his mother's hand while she cries and rubs her stomach.

He refuses to leave when the doctor suggests that he go play in the waiting room, and listens with a vague sense of understanding as the adults speak over him. His father is gone – gone forever? That can't be right… – and his mother is sad and scared and his brother might be hurt, even though he's still inside her stomach, and that's all he can bear to listen to before he stalks out of the room and into the waiting room to kick over a pile of building blocks that someone had made into a castle.

He hates his father for being mean and always yelling and making his mother sad and hurting his brother, and he swears that he'll never even _ask_ for Frosted Flakes ever again as long as his brother is okay.

And just yesterday he still thought he hated his brother.


	2. So Weary

**Title: **So Weary  
**Word Count:** 305  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** She hates that she's turned into _this_ kind of mother, one who drags he crying and whining children out and disturbs everyone around her because she's so desperate for something other than _workhomeworkhomeworkhome_ for once.  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.

**A/N:** Second part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

She can see the people around her getting aggravated, sees how the waiter grinds his teeth every time he comes over to their table, and hates that she's turned into _this_ kind of mother, one who drags he crying and whining children out and disturbs everyone around her because she's so desperate for something other than _workhomeworkhomeworkhome_ for once.

Michael is wailing and screeching, tears running down his cheeks and tiny fists flying through the air. She can't figure out what's wrong with him, and Lincoln's whining about the heat in the restaurant and about not having any crayons to draw with and he's climbing underneath the table, and she's just about lost her patience (and she thinks maybe her mind).

She looks down at Lincoln peeking out from beneath the table and sighs, and he's only five, he can't possibly understand, but his mouth shuts suddenly, mid-complaint, and he clambers back up into his chair looking almost guilty.

She turns to call the waiter over to ask for their check so that they can just leave quickly, and when she turns back to her children, Lincoln is sticking his tongue out at Michael.

Michael continues to cry, and Lincoln tries to touch his tongue to his own nose.

Tears spill down his face, but Michael is a bit quieter now, and Lincoln rolls his eyes into the back of his head.

Michael's cries fade away into mild whimpers as he watches his brother, gone almost as quickly as they'd begun. Lincoln pulls his ears out and puffs his cheeks, and Michael laughs at him happily.

She laughs softly along with them.

_You have lovely children_ someone tells her as they leave the restaurant an hour later, Michael asleep on her arm and Lincoln trundling along quietly beside her, and for the moment she agrees.


	3. With My Brother Standing By

**Title: **With My Brother Standing By  
**Fandom:** Prison Break  
**Word Count:** 207  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** He watches Michael reach a hand out towards the couch, seeking to steady himself.  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.

**A/N:** Third part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

He watches Michael reach a hand out towards the couch, seeking to steady himself. But he stops at the last second, small hand hovering over the plaid cushions while he sways for a moment and then straightens himself out, making Lincoln smile.

Michael wobbles and waddles his way along the length of the couch with Lincoln standing over him the whole time, hands out in case he should fall, and then leaves the safety net of his brother and the couch to make his way over towards the kitchen.

When he makes it to the kitchen table and grabs onto one of the table legs, he looks upwards almost plaintively, and Lincoln runs over to scoop him up excitedly.

_I knew it! Knew you could do it!_

Lincoln beams, knowing that Michael doesn't really know what he's saying, but Michael grins as if he can read his brother's mind. Lincoln puts the smaller boy on top of his shoulders and they wobble slightly as Michael reaches a tiny arm out across the table to grab several cookies from the plate sitting in the middle.

Then Lincoln sets him down, and they sit in the middle of the floor, Michael in Lincoln's lap, and munch on their cookies.


	4. Goes Like This

**Title: **Goes Like This...  
**Fandom:** Prison Break  
**Characters:** Michael, Lincoln  
**Prompt:** 035: Sixth Sense  
**Word Count:** 183  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** He said he was going to let go, but he hasn't yet, Michael's sure of that, and he keeps peddling with Lincoln running along beside him to keep him steady.  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.  
**A/N:** Fourth part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

Lincoln said he was letting go, and Michael knows he really would. He said he was going to let go, but he hasn't yet, Michael's sure of that, and he keeps peddling with Lincoln running along beside him to keep him steady.

When Lincoln had said he was letting go a few minutes ago, Michael had yelped and frozen on the bike, and it was Lincoln who kept him moving, cajoled him into peddling further, and Michael moved his terror-frozen feet, expecting any minute that his brother's steadying hands would disappear and he'd be all alone.

Now Michael's growing antsy, waiting for the moment that Lincoln will let go of him, and he knows that he has this thing down with Lincoln holding on. Now he has to do it by himself.

_Thought you were letting go._

Not until you're ready.

I'm ready, said without hesitation.

_I know,_ breathed between a laugh. _Just waiting 'till you knew it too._

And then he let's go, and Michael flies down the street, all by himself.

He can feel his brother behind him the whole way.


	5. Brother, You Know It's a Long Road

**Title: **Brother, You Know It's a Long Road  
**Word Count:** 319  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** He's thirteen and angry when he decides to runaway.  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.  
**A/N:** Fifth part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

He's thirteen and angry when he decides to runaway.

He's angry at his mother for working too much, he's angry at his teachers for giving him bad grades, he's angry at Veronica's father for being a jerk, he's angry for a million imaginary reasons, and he decides he's had enough of this life.

So he sets out one afternoon, White Sox cap pulled low down on his head and sleeping bag stuffed into his backpack, along with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a stash of cookies.

He's halfway down the block when he notices Michael following him, trotting along with his green Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack bouncing behind him.

Lincoln tries to be patient when he explains to his brother that he's going away, he's not coming back, but Michael just smiles brightly and says that he's going too.

Lincoln finally relents, and they walk side-by-side down the block, Michael animatedly describing a book he read about siblings who ran away and hid in a museum, and _wouldn't that be cool?_

They get as far as the park before the anger starts to burn away and Lincoln is left with nothing but a sick feeling of guilt – he glances down at his brother, jabbering away about dinosaurs and that time that Mom took them to the natural history museum and they saw a Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton, and Lincoln doesn't want to be the one who takes Michael away from his mother.

So it's Michael that makes him reconsider his plan, and nothing else. It's not the fear of his mother's panic when she finds out they're missing, or the rolling of his stomach every time he imagines never seeing her again, or even the slight panic over _where on earth are we going to go?_ that he's trying to bury that makes him stop and tell Michael that they have to go back.

Really, it's not.


	6. My Salvation

**Title:** My Salvation  
**Word Count:** 395  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** She's completely shocked when she opens the front door to find her sons alone in the apartment, and completely covered head-to-toe in food.  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.  
**A/N:** Sixth part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

The _thunk_ and _thwap_ make her double her pace down the hall, and the sudden loud screech makes her break into a run, visions of fire, blood, murderers, child-molesters running through her head.

She's completely shocked when she opens the front door to find her sons alone in the apartment, and completely covered head-to-toe in food.

And there's food _everywhere_.

Broccoli adorns the windowsill, Spaghettios are stuck to the refrigerator, green Jell-O drips in huge globs from the kitchen table to the floor, and there's a trail of Cheerios leading from Lincoln's feet to the box that Michael has his hand stuffed down.

Both boys are frozen in their places, Lincoln looking shocked and Michael guilty, and the Jell-O that Lincoln was been holding, arm raised to throw, begins sliding down his arm.

She opens her mouth to berate them, but she can't get a word out before Lincoln jumps in with _it was me, I started it, it wasn't his fault,_ glancing quickly at his brother's worried expression.

_He's lying, Mom!_ Michael interrupts as the Cheerios fall heavily to the floor. _I started it, I swear!_

_Don't listen to him, _Lincoln tells her, moving around the table to push Michael out of the way and stand in front of her.

_Mom,_ Michael whines, trying to shove his brother away.

Lincoln turns to Michael and tells him, _shut up_.

So she hits him in the back of the head with a spoonful of Jell-O.

Lincoln jumps in surprise and whirls around to give her a look of absolute astonishment while she crouches down to hide behind a chair and grab the box of Cheerios.

She hurls a handful at her sons as Lincoln pulls Michael around behind the table, grabbing at whatever they can reach to throw back at her.

She knows this is a huge waste, as a glob of butter hits her forehead, knows that she'll have to go shopping tomorrow because they'll soon be out of everything.

But Michael laughs and Lincoln grins, and Lincoln almost never grins anymore, and she hits her youngest with a handful of pepper, making him sneeze, and right now money's not such a big deal.

It's reassuring, especially after her latest visit to the doctor, to think that she doesn't have to worry too much about the two of them, because they'll always protect each other.


	7. You Who Are My Home

**Title:** You Who Are My Home  
**Word Count:** 564  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** He almost cries with relief when Lincoln appears, but knows that his brother would punch him if he did, so he settles for a tackling hug and burying his face in Lincoln's t-shirt.  
**Disclaimer:** Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.  
**A/N:** Seventh and final part of a series of pointless, semi-fluffy childhood drabbles/short ficlets.

-

He almost cries with relief when Lincoln appears, but knows that his brother would punch him if he did, so he settles for a tackling hug and burying his face in Lincoln's t-shirt.

_What're you going here?_ he ask a little sniffly, still trying to choke back tears. _I thought – they made you go to that other place…_

_It's okay, _Lincoln says loudly, pulling Michael away and holding him at arm's length. Michael is immediately hurt, but then he notices Lincoln glance up at his foster-mother walking by them, and sees the disapproving look she gives them followed by a forced smile before she heads out of the room.

Lincoln turns his attention back to Michael and leans in, the way he used to when they'd whisper in front of their mother and tell silly, stupid secrets.

He speaks in a low voice, completely serious. Michael knows this is a real secret now.

_You wanna stay with me? _

Michael nods, thinks _god yes, of course. _

Lincoln nods back, squeezes his shoulder, and then, _you trust me? _

_'Course I do, _Michael replies fiercely.

Lincoln swallows, looks nervous for all of thirty seconds, and then tells him _go get your stuff. Not too much, just, you know, whatever you really need. _

It reminds Michael of packing up his life to come here – _sorry hunny, you can't take everything. Just what you really need_, and how do you pick out what's most important from your whole life to hold onto?

Michael would've stuffed Lincoln into a bag if he could've.

_And be quiet about it_, Lincoln tells him as Michael trots up the stairs to his bedroom.

For a few seconds he can pretend it's all a game – they're princes going on an adventure, a trip around the world, and they have to hide out from the pirates who're after them, and later, when they're back to being just Michael and Lincoln again, Mom will be there with ice cream and laughter at their imaginations.

But they're both much too old for pretend, and their mother's gone now.

Michael shoves he favorite t-shirt into his backpack, spares one last look around for the room that was his for a few long days and the things he's leaving behind, and then dashes from the room trying to will himself to slow down.

_C'mon, _Lincoln says as soon as Michael joins him again, and he looks around quickly before ushering Michael out of the house.

Five minutes later Michael has a brief panic when he thinks about his foster-parents realizing that he's missing, and insists that they go back so he can leave a note, but Lincoln won't hear of it.

_They'll realize when they find your stuff missing what's going on, and I don't want to be around here when they do. _

Michael nods, says okay, and they're off running again, this time without looking back. The last time they did this Michael had no worries - he knew his brother wouldn't get far before turning back, knew they'd be back at home before dinnertime and their mother would never know.

Now he _knows_ they're not going back, Lincoln won't let him be taken away again _ever_, and he has no idea where they're going – is a little afraid to ask – but it's okay, okay because Lincoln is taking his hand now and running next to him.

**-end-**


End file.
